


A Man With No Name

by EgoDominusTuus



Category: Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Background - Freeform, Courser, Danse Background, F/M, M/M, Multi, Potential Danse/Harkness relationship, Spoilers Post Blind Betrayal, Synth, angsty danse, pre game danse, pre-game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he was hunted down by the Brotherhood of Steel for being something other than human, he was hunted down by the Institute for being something other than a synth. </p><p>- -<br/>Also known as: If Bethesda won't give me Paladin Danse background, I'll do it myself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man With No Name

M7-97 was a designation. I wanted a name. I wanted something other than a life of hunting down other synths who had escaped, a life other than being the thing that I was, held tight under the rule of Father's thumb.

I wanted a life for myself.

I wanted to be  _ human _ .

I'd heard of it happening before - I'd brought synths home for reprogramming when they were attempting to find someone who could make it happen. They'd come close to finding a doctor capable of making the transition for them, but they'd never managed to make it to their surgery table.

Perhaps it was unfair for me to use my advantage of where they'd run to aide in my own escape, but I knew that I couldn't live at the Institute any longer.

I only knew that I needed to make my way to a place called Rivet City. It was far away enough from the Institute that I felt like I would have a good chance of being free of their watchful eye long enough to explore a few possibilities that I'd heard about.

I'd heard about a rogue Courser who'd run down to the place, found a way to blend in - found a way to be human... a way that I hadn't known about. Apparently, there were doctors who could change your face, could take away your memories. There were doctors who could make you an entirely new person, for the right price. Money wasn't an issue to me - I had the capability and skill to acquire caps. The thought of losing who I was though... I shied away from that prospect. I didn't know what kind of a life I wanted to lead - and I didn't know what kind of a person I could be, could _want_ to be...

I didn't know if I wanted to lose the memories of who I was, if only because I'd been through things and done things that I didn't  _ deserve  _ to forget. I'd hunted down and killed people who were my own, and all at the behest of Father. I'd done it without blinking, and I'd done it without caring for so long...

I didn't deserve to escape the guilt that haunted me at night.

It was the development of my conscience that had forced my hand in leaving the Institute. I'd made the mistake of confiding in another Courser about it, and somehow word had gotten to Father. He'd called me into the office with his sharp green eyes narrowed and his mouth turned into a frown.

_ M7-97, I've heard that you're developing... feelings. _

I'd had to answer in the affirmative, and he'd told me to go to processing for an analysis immediately.

I knew what happened in processing - it wasn't a simple analysis. He was going to have me reprogrammed, and I'd asked him as much.

_ Does it matter? You shouldn't have thoughts, or feelings. You're a tool of the Institute and a machine made to retrieve others. You are my child, and you're malfunctioning. I need to fix you. _

Yes, sir. I'd said yes, sir... and I'd left the Institute before he had a chance to realize that I wasn't reporting to my designated location. I shifted to teleport out of the underground facility, and then took a knife to the back of my neck.

The Transponder that let me come to and from my home was wet and glistening with blood in my hand... and I stared at it for a few long moments before throwing it to the ground and bringing a black boot down to the top of it. It cracked with the twist of my heel... and with that, I cut myself off from everything that I'd known, and everything that I'd been.

M7-97 was a designation. But I had no name, and no home. 


End file.
